Orc
by Anna Marcelli Palmer
Summary: She had always secretly wanted to travel to Quirm, on a warm summer's day. When she does, it's the man, and not the journey, that turns out to be the dream of a lifetime.


**_Orc_**

~_A story by Anna Marcelli Palmer_

* * *

Trotting through the boundless lands of Quirm, amidst the sweet silence of a lazy summer's eve. As the sun peacefully bleeds the sky a passionate scarlet, shadows against the dim light, people can be distinguished, roaming peacefully the picturesque streets ahead.

Life, beauty, and commotion. Vibrant colors scattered shoddily all over plains that look as infinite as love itself.

Freedom. Adventure. Longing.

Everything seems so terribly wrong, so blatantly irrational, yet feels so paralyzingly right. Cell by cell, her whole existence is overwhelmed with senses; the wind blowing playfully through the curls of her hair, the landscape sprinting past them, the rythmical breath of the horse, the firm vibrations caused by the rough impact with the earth, the echo of girlish giggles, sounds of laughter typical of a creature not accustomed to laughing.

Her arms frozen for hours around his waist, fingers clutching firmly on the cloth of his shirt, so much so that veins are becoming visible on both her hands.

On their way to far Uberwald.

And what about the Night Kitchen, and the life that 's being left behind? There are a billion things to be done back home, countless fragments of familiar Morporkian routine she will definitely miss. Daily duties. Work at the University, friends left behind, the vivid Klatchian markets, the busy streets, even the foot-the-ball and its savant Shove.

Things she knows well and can easily handle.

Even now, in this very instant, now that she has already said yes to him, now that she is already swept off her feet by him, deep inside, Glenda feels the slightest pang of worry. So many reasons why the answer should be no. It was a good job after all, and she had almost grown fond of the wizards' erratic habits, and their whims, and the way her workspace seemed to defy fundamental laws of physics all the time... secure, mundane quotidianity, _every_ logical human being's first and only perspective.

A plump girl that has only known the four rather lonely walls of her quiet workspace, and the last orc alive, a much dreaded being resented by the mankind, on a journey to the savage lands of Uberwald. A fairly tale about imperfect people, living imperfect lives, making uncertain dreams- should it really be that way? Mind screams no, it shouldn't. But the mere thought only causes her to hold on tighter.

"Is everything all right, Miss Glenda?", the voice reaches the ears distorted, but for the speed they are sprinting at, but it still causes a smile to spread across her face.

"Glenda would do just fine under the current circumstances", she mumbles mechanically, thinking how he has never ceased to be the same man that wrote that beautiful poem for her, and admitted having done so days later, out of sheer shyness. "I was just wondering.", she added, louder this time.

"Wondering ? I don't think I understand."

Feelings, confessions, thoughts, worries bubble within her skull. A million things to be said, and what finally comes out is just an infinitesimal portion of it all. Am I doing the right thing? Will finding the remaining orcs turn out to be a dangerous task? Is it finally a happy ending? Should I be afraid of what you are? Why did you do all this...for me?

"It's just insane... "

"What, Miss Glenda?"

"You and me, here, now._ Us_ _. _The mission Ladyship assigned you. Everything."

The pause that follows is far too longer than what she'd expected. Seconds fly away in reticence, and the woman's heart gradually sinks. _I said something that upset him. Something that saddened him._

Then, all of a sudden, his torso convulses beneath her arms, muscles clench ever so slightly. He skillfully leans back, and in a few moments, the horse has grinded itself to a halt. Breath chaotical, heart stopped, she tries to find his gaze while he gently helps her dismount, but it's discouragingly impossible; he seems a lot smaller than his usual self now, eyes stubbornly pinned to the ground, somehwat hidden by a strand of his hair.

But...it had _seemed _like their happy ending. Should be. Must be. Now she is incensed with herself, mad at her down-to-earth, overly rational way of thinking, cursing her obvious expertise at spoiling everything.

Unhingement. Scrolling through a mental list of appropriate things to say. To no avail.

"Why did we stop?", is the only thing that eventually comes out.

Eyes are raised to meet with hers, and when they do, a strange gleam resides within. And just then, the faintest idea of a benign smile.

He is _ugly_, in an adorable, virtually enchanting way. The thought seems stupid, but its hers nontheless.

"So that you can indulge in the view."

The view. Quirm. Summer. The delightful breeze caressing her hair._ What she had always secretly dreamt of. Those small, naive daydreams one has, that usually only remain daydreams. _And it is true, spreading to every direction around her, full of smell and color and sound. All for her. Right there.

And she was just about to let it pass, but for worrying all the time.

But look! The sun has just set, and the celestial dome is now the most improbable mauve ever, and windows are lit like little halos in the distance, and the town ahead looks like a tiny, vibrating ball of nightlife, so much so that she can cup it in her hands.

''I passed many years of my life in a room as dark as a starless night, Miss Glenda. Chained to an anvil for what had seemed like forever, just because people were afraid of me. Memories of my unnatural roots where erased, I think, because they are so painful to carry around. What I am, Miss Glenda, will deprive me of a normal life, because everyone knows how an orc can tear a head off one's shoulders with a single move."

And she stands, there, immobilized by words, unable to come up with a response, get angry at herself for being so blind, or even cry.

"Even Ladyship, whom I always admired, believed I was worthless. I urged myself to constantly accumulate worth, so that the feeling in my chest that I am all wrong would go away. I am supposed to teach the remaining handful of orcs civilized behavior, but how will I ever manage that since the Empire has treated them like animals?"

The air, heavy with aromas and the dense summer atmosphere, enters her lungs and fills her with what seems horrifyingly like happiness. The view is so mesmerizing that it could possibly scorch the eyes of a passerby.

It's like a present. An unlikely, amazing present.

"My limited perception of what comprises our world has taught me that people are mostly ugly beings. Life is so complicated I can hardly ever figure out what to do with it. So, you see, I am trying to find beauty in as many places as I can, so that I won't have to run away from myself ever again. "

Her hands are frantically fiddling with his, looking for something to cling on to. _How could anyone be afraid of someone like you, the kind Mr. Nutt? How could anyone notice your looks, your terrifying claws, and overlook the way you work pure magic with a candle? How could I question that, Mr. Nutt..?_

"You are the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me, Miss Glenda. And I really do hope that I will manage to pay back for some of it all, little by little."

A stunning night is falling upon the Disc, introducing a star-riddled firmament. Tears are streaming slowly down her face, as he reaches for her.

"Now. I am not afraid to live. I wouldn't want you to be either. What do you say?"

She is crying in the loud, relentless, totally unlikeable way a true woman cries. His face is a riddle, but something within that blank stare implies that, deep inside, he's aching for the answer.

"It's the most beautiful spectacle." , she finally says, and he wordlessly agrees, although it's not the same view they are looking at.

And, when they are thrown in each other's arms, she truly finds out what it feels like to be in the hands, not of a man, but of the dream of a lifetime.


End file.
